


A Collection of Small Things

by awkward_ace



Series: Cullen Collects Things [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkward_ace/pseuds/awkward_ace
Summary: Commander Cullen collects small things. It wasn't his idea to start, they just...sort of started appearing, and he would very much like to know who is behind it and how they're getting into his office space to leave them behind.All fluff, fluff, fluff.





	A Collection of Small Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I'm dedicating this to VeraLynn. I don't think you've played this game (you should, it's wonderful), but I haven't written anything in a long time, so, I just wanted to say, LOOK I DID IT AGAIN!, and also, I'm super proud of you for doing all your works, too, and thank you for kinda getting me back on the tracks. I hope I can get more done. Lots of love!!

**A Collection of Small Things**

 

It had started with a little mabari figurine.

He was not really sure when, exactly, it had shown up, but there it was, sitting near the corner of his small camp desk one afternoon, staring at him with bright little black eyes—elfroot seeds, he thought, or maybe embrium? It was a little squat, wooden creature, sat on its haunches and looking like it was waiting for someone to pat its head or perhaps tell it what to fetch, and it had been stained a pretty sort of purple-red.

Cullen blinked, set down his pen, and picked it up, absently running his thumb over the thing’s rather fat belly. “Where,” he wondered quietly to himself, “did you come from?” Because clearly he was going to get an answer from a wooden dog.

He turned it slowly over in his fingers, mouth quirking in a lopsided grin before he could really help himself. Someone had taken the time to carve a tiny nub of a tail. It sort of reminded him of the mabari his family had raised and doted on when he was a boy. _Loyal old thing_. “Well. Can’t leave you here on your own, with us being so close to Orlais, can I?” he said to it, “Fereldans ought to stay together.”

A scout called to him from outside the tent, drawing his attention away from the little thing, and he stood from his chair to walk outside to receive what was hopefully some good news about troop and supply numbers. The mabari was gently tucked into his pocket as he did so.

 

*****

 

A small bouquet of dried herbs and flowers, most of which he had no idea as to what they were called was sat directly by his inkwell, along with a note that read, “For tension. Boil in water, with plenty of honey.” Cullen raised an eyebrow, then picked up the small bunch of plants. Elfroot, he knew and…he gave a tentative sniff. Mint. Wild mint.

He debated for a few moments, then stepped outside and took the bunch to Adan. The Commandeer really doubted that anything in there was toxic but still…his mother had always told him and his siblings not to go around messing with plants that they were not sure of.

The alchemist gave him an odd look when he asked about that was in the bundle, and if they were, in fact, good for tension.

“Elfroot, mint, chamomile…yeah, that would be good for tension and headaches. Though if you make tea out of the lot it might get bitter, as strong as you take your brew,” Adan said, handing him back the bouquet. “I’d suggest honey. Plenty of it.”

Cullen did as instructed and slept a little better that night. Or, rather, he did not wake up quite as sore and tense, despite some nightmares.

He was also a bit surprised to hear Leliana mention finding a similar bunch of herbs and flowers at her table. She had elected to leave it where she had originally found it, for now, suspicious of its origins. “Tea,” he told her, “It’s tea. Though you’ll want honey if you let it sit.”

He ignored that odd yet amused look she gave him the rest of the day.

 

*****

 

The next little creature to appear had been a small but mighty lion, carved from quartz with swirls of creamy yellow and flecks of gold speckled in it. Two bright citrines has been set into its face as eyes, and it had its teeth bared in a fierce snarl, though one fang appeared to have chipped off. Like the mabari, Cullen was not exactly sure when this one had shown up, but it had to have been recently because he liked to think that he was not _that_ oblivious to his surroundings, especially his own tent.

“Someone is starting a menagerie, it seems,” he grumbled. “Why they thought here was a good idea…”

He needed a strong cup of tea, food, and some sleep. Maker, he needed sleep.

He dropped into his chair heavily, rubbing his eyes tiredly, then peered at the lion over his hand. Who was even leaving these things? And how? No one had mentioned anything to him about someone coming to his tent or looking for him, which was a somewhat uncomfortable thought, given their situation, and the openness of Haven. Should he speak with Leliana about it?

Granted, a couple of animal figurines and an odd bunch of flower or two were not particularly something to be threatened by. Perhaps especially the flowers, since he had found out somewhat recently that he and Leliana were not the only recipients of tea-bouquets. Frowning, Cullen pushed himself to his feet with a tired groan and stepped back outside to head to the mess tent.

A few hours later, when he stretched out on his cot to try and sleep, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would skip the dreams tonight, the mabari sat next to the lion, two tiny sentinels on the camp desk.

 

*****

 

Haven was there one moment, and then gone the next. Buried under tons of rock and snow and ice. Then came the long, hard march to their new abode. _Not home. Not yet._

The Inquisition was barely two weeks into settling at Skyhold when Cullen found himself feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.

He now had an actual office set up, with a large desk and book shelves, some chairs, and even a small cupboard tucked against a wall. On said large desk, by his inkwell, was a raven. Not one of Leliana’s birds (she said they were birds, he and Varric were not at all sure about that, given their mean tempers), but a small statue, carved from onyx, with bright, sparkling green gemstone eyes, and delicate, gold painted claws.

Who in Andraste’s name was leaving these things? And where were they even _finding_ them?

Cullen picked the raven up, his fingers finding the small carved glyphs carved into the base. Glyphs? What? He turned the figurine over in order to look, and flushed.

A glyph for luck, a glyph for protection. A third for health. A few more he had seen before but could not really recall. A final one for love.

_Pria. Pria Lavellan, a mage, an elf, who had fallen from the Fade, who bore strange magic on her palm, the Herald of Andraste, who was funny and smart and infuriating, who insisted on knowing every detail, every bit of information she could get, who desperately tried to resolve things quietly and reasonably before slamming heads together, who flung herself into frays headlong, **in the front** , instead of hurling her spells from afar (didn’t she know that mages were somewhat ill-suited to close quarter combat?!), who worried about everybody who had thrust her to the front to lead, who survived Haven and a blizzard, alone, who still managed to smile at him even when they quarreled over the war table. The Inquisitor._

Charms. Good luck charms. Someone had left him a well-wishes totem.

He firmly—but gently—set the raven back down and set on his reports with a vengeance, determined to _not_ think about that, _not_ be blushing like a school boy, and, more importantly, _not_ think about their sarcastic, clever, and quite attractive mage Inquisitor, who had immediately sprung to his mind upon seeing the glyph for “love”.

 

*****

 

The Inquisition was firmly settled into Skyhold when he discovered the identity of the elusive creature who had been leaving little gifts on his desk.

He walked into his office, clipboard in hand, somewhat refreshed from a walk around the battlements, ready to get back to looking at all the incoming paperwork, and found the Inquisitor already inside.

“Pria!?” _Her name. Not her title, not the careful professionalism he tried to keep, said without thinking._

She jumped, hands flying away from his desk and behind her back, and immediately looked amusingly guilty and embarrassed for getting caught. “Cul—Commander! Sorry! I—ah—was just—“

He glanced from her, to the desk, saw a little figurine, a small bouquet of what he recognized as the tea he and the other advisors found on a semi-regular basis. A strange feeling came over him, a warmth and tingle in his spine and stomach.

“It was you?” he asked, but also stated. He had heard Dorian affectionately complaining to her about her propensity to collect _things_ , like every medicinal herb she spotted, and pretty leaves or stones. _Nature_.

She blushed. His stomach did an odd flip. She was _adorable_ when she blushed.

“I—well, yes. I just…yes,” she replied, a bit quietly, finding the rug intensely interesting.

Cullen struggled a moment or two to keep back a laugh, and finally closed the door softly behind him. “And what, pray tell, little guest have you brought me this time?” Alright, he hadn’t laughed, but he was apparently unable to keep the deep amusement out of his voice. Good enough.

Pria’s ears, expressive things that they were, perked a bit from the slight droop they had been in. She glanced up at him, took a measure of his expression, and smiled somewhat shyly. “It’s a toy soldier,” she picked it up from the desk, held it out to him, “Antivan. Or so Josie tells me. Her brothers had some similar, it seems.”

He smiled, gently taking it from her hand to look it over, and he would never admit to _anyone_ how delighted he is to find that its arms and legs can move a little, be posed to hold up its sword and shield, to kneel. Its painted in red and gold, with the insignia of the Inquisition on its chest, the Templar symbol on its shield; it even has yellow hair, and surprisingly detailed brown eyes, and a little fluff of fur around the shoulders and neck. Cullen can feel himself blushing, now.

“Did you…?”

“I, ah…I had to repair him, a little.”

“Got separated from his squad, did he?”

“Oh, yes. Lucky for him, we came along. He thought maybe he could help you out with the paperwork.”

Cullen laughed, his free hand running through his hair and down to rub the back of his neck, “That’s appreciated more than I can say.”

Her smile widened as he walked over to his book case and set the soldier carefully on the top shelf, next to the raven, the lion, and the mabari. “You still have them!” she sort of blurted out, clearly surprised but thrilled. He blushed again, recalling his moment of realization that they had made it, and how that had come about. _On a mountaintop, with hungry and scared people everywhere. Great time to find toys in one’s pocket._

“I…I thought maybe those first two were lost at Haven,” she explained

“No. No, they survived, too.”

Pria bit her lip, “May I ask?”

Cullen smiled a little, a bit self-depreciating, “It’s…a little embarrassing.”

“Oh, well, now I _must_ ask.” She was teasing him. Flirting, again. He enjoys that more than he should.

“Well, if my Inquisitor demands,” he says, lips curling pleasantly when her nose wrinkles at him, because she has never _demanded_ anything of her advisors, “The mabari sort of has a habit of…ending up in my pocket, so. There’s him, accounted for.”

“Him?”

“Inquisitor…”

“Alright, I’ll behave. The lion?”

“I was in my tent, just before the signals sounded to warn us of Corypheus’ attack. With a headache—anyway, I was just mindlessly…fiddling with the lion, and wondering what our next move was, and that’s when everything…”

“…when everything fell out from under us.”

“Yes. I didn’t realize I still had it in my hand until I was talking to one of the scouts who brought in the news. By that time the only thing I could do with it was let it keep the mabari company.”

Toys in his pocket, like when he was a child. Maker, if people only knew. The Commander of the Inquisition’s army carries around a toy dog in his pocket, and was toying with a tiny lion statue when a town was attacked, then subsequently wiped off the map. Now he collects little things, even though it was not his idea to start doing so. He would never live it down.

“Does the tea help?”

Cullen blinked out of his thoughts. “What?”

Pria raised an eyebrow at him and grinned a bit crookedly, “The tea. That I left you. Does it help?”

Tea? What tea? Oh! The flower bunches! One of which still sat on the desk.

“Oh—yes. It does. At least most of the time. Thank you.”

Her lips pursed a bit, and he swallowed a bit harshly, suddenly afraid she was going to ask questions that he was not ready to answer. _Not her, not yet_. However, she let it pass, and he let his breath out.

“I’m glad to hear that, Commander,” she said. “I won’t take any more of your time. I’m sorry if I startled you or caused any discomfort in being here so…ah, unexpectedly.”

“Not at all, Inquisitor.”

The elf turned, started for the door, lifting an arm to pick a bit of debris from her sleeve— _she looked so lovely in that shade of blue_ —and he leaned back against his desk, watching her walk away, telling himself that really, he should not be admiring her backside like this, but not quite willing to look away this time.

“How did you manage to sneak the first few trinkets in?” he suddenly asked, then quickly looked up as she paused at the door and turned a bit to look at him.

“Nobody ever saw you, to my knowledge,” he added.

Oh, there it was. That impish smile. The last time he had seen that had been when some fool had given her a _dead horse with a sword through its head_ as a mount and this strange woman had been _delighted_. The damn thing was still in the stable because _of course it was, their stable master was the best to be had._ Cassandra said that out in the field, that smile meant something dangerous was most likely about to go down, such as “Let’s take this keep from the bandits, just the four of us. It’ll be a good bonding experience.” _Maker’s breath._

“ _Magic_ , Commander,” she said, still wearing that damn smile on her pretty face, and swanned out the door in a manner she could only have learned from Vivienne.

Cullen rolled his eyes with an exasperated sound and turned to go back to work. ‘ _Magic_ ’ _she says. Very funny._ So why was he smiling? Right. He was smiling because she was a snarky little elf that he could probably lift with one hand, but she did not seem to realize that.

_Very funny…_

 

*****

 

 _…Or maybe completely serious?_ As Cullen found in the following weeks.

The Inquisitor took to the field, riding between region to region to establish camps and start looking in on the intelligence given to her. Once she returned, Cullen found a trinket on his desk from time to time, now accompanied with a playful note, but never again caught Pria in the act of placing them, despite spending a good deal of his time in his office hoping for just that.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that Cullen has, in fact, named the little mabari figurine, and probably the others. He's just not going to tell anyone because, please, he's the Commander and he does have to do something to keep his reputation in check among the troops. They'd probably find it cute, because they all know the Commander is a flustered mess around the Inquisitor.
> 
> I'm not sure if this will go anywhere. It just came to me while I was playing through the game again. Since my Inquisitor is in the beginnings of a romance with one Cullen Rutherford, and she does find little toys and such all over the place, I like to think that she'd have fun leaving them around for him to find, and her own personal game of it is to not get caught doing it.


End file.
